


Life with a very pregnant Spaniard

by SpadesDame



Series: RomaSpa Mpreg Drabbles and One-shots [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-03
Updated: 2013-01-03
Packaged: 2017-11-23 12:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/622313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpadesDame/pseuds/SpadesDame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A day from Lovino and Antonio's way to fatherhood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Life with a very pregnant Spaniard

**Author's Note:**

> Pregnant!Spain because the way I see it, Spain was born uke. Romano is more of a seme. So, even though they do switch sometimes, this remains.

The early morning sun spilled through the windows, falling upon the two forms lying on the bed, huddled under the covers together. It was silent and peaceful and Romano had only half a heart to feel annoyed at the sun hitting him directly in the face and waking him up, so he just rolled over, wrapping an arm around Spain’s still sleeping form. He took a moment to brush the other’s hair back, away from his face and press a soft kiss behind his ear before spooning the taller male. It was too early and he could be cuddly if he wanted dammit! 

He let his hand rest over the Spaniard’s swollen belly, fingers splayed and sighed in contentment. Today was going to be a good day. With a little luck, maybe it would even be potato-bastard free. 

He pressed another kiss to Antonio’s shoulder and hummed, closing his eyes. It was too fucking early to be thinking about his brother’s stupid boyfriend. 

~~*~~

“Spagna.” Kiss. “Spagna, wake up.” Kiss. “Breakfast is ready.” Nuzzle. 

The Spaniard whined a little in his sleep, mumbling something incorrigible, but otherwise completely ignored Romano and his futile attempts to gently wake him up while he hovered above him. 

“Oi, Antonio.” Lovino shook him a little on the shoulder and sighed after only receiving a frown as a response. He nuzzled the Spaniard’s neck lightly and tucked him better under the covers, keeping his arm around him for a moment longer. “You’re hopeless…” 

~~*~~

“But Lovi~” Spain whined from the couch and Romano refused to turn around and look at him. He didn’t need to do so in order to know that the bastard would have his pouty baby-face on, trying to quilt him into submission. Which absolutely did not work. Nah-uh. 

“I am sure you can watch your damn movie alone. I have work I need to finish.”

“Why~? You always leave it for later…”

“It’s been piling up, since my stupid brother has been too busy trying to bear the potato bastard junior in case you haven’t noticed.” 

…Oh, no, he was not hearing sniffing. 

Oh yes he was. 

Damn hormones. 

“There, there, now…” He got up from his chair and sighed, tossing the documents on the desk, fairly untouched. Antonio looked at him, green eyes wide and glassy. Uh, scratch that. It worked. Every time. 

Lovino walked up to the couch and plopped down next to his lover, sinking low in the cushions and spreading his arms wide. “Come here, idiota…” he told him in a low voice, though the man had already leant towards him and was curling up at his side, head on his shoulder, one knee over one of his own and his arms curled close to his chest, one resting on Romano’s shoulder near Antonio’s head. In that position, Lovino could barely feel the other’s stomach against his side, round and warm and he put his hand, the one that wasn’t combing through chocolate-brown curls, on it. He placed a kiss upon the other’s hair and rested his chin on his head. “So, what are we watching?” 

~

Soon, Spain had calmed down, completely relaxing in Romano’s embrace, both of them cozy and warm. Romano’s hand was rubbing lazy circles on Spain’s stomach and he was pretty sure the Spaniard was asleep, judging by his even breathing and relaxed grip. He reached out for the remote, turning off the TV. The movie had ended a while ago, but he had been too comfortable –even with the pregnant Spaniard practically on top of him- to even consider moving from their position to get it. Lovino settled in, grabbing the quilt that was folded up on the arm of the couch to drape it over both of them. He considered carrying Antonio upstairs, to the bedroom, but decided that he might as well do it later.  
“Lovi…” said pregnant Spaniard’s drowsy voice reached his ears and he hummed his response, letting him know he was listening. “I want ice cream,” he whispered though Lovino felt that that was not all. “…and… pickles.” Ugh. There went his peaceful night. 

“Che palle,” he whispered under his breath, untangling his limbs from Antonio’s and pushing himself off the couch to stretch his back and arms. 

“Lovi?” 

“Si.”

“I want strawberry. No- wait. Chocolate. No-” he paused to consider it for a second. “Actually, can I have both?” He smiled, scratching the back of his neck like he was seemingly so fond of doing. Romano shook his head and headed to the kitchen to get the ice-cream and… pickles… 

He might have been secretly enjoying taking care of Spain during the pregnancy, and maybe spoiling him a little, too –not that he would ever admit to such a thing- but these weird… cravings, were a whole other matter. 

Not that he was still smiling. No. 

Okay, maybe he was. So what? It was because it was such a manly thing to do, dammit!


End file.
